“Better late than never, I suppose,” Emily said, patting his bony head.

“Mr. Brontë, please accept my apologies.” Mr. Nicholls burst onto the scene, almost knocking poor Charlotte over in his haste not to be altogether too late. “I tried to pierce through the crowd, but they would not let me pass!”

“All is well, Arthur,” Papa said. “My daughter Emily dealt with the matter.”

“May I take Eamon home, miss?” A pretty young woman, heavy with child, came forward. “God bless you for your kindness. The mob came and dragged him out of our house, and I feared him dead, and our babe not yet born.”

“I’m all right, Mary,” the lad whispered. “I’ll be well and at work tomorrow.”

“Branwell will help you back to your rooms with him, Mary,” Charlotte said, bustling about as if the dispersal of the crowd had been entirely down to her. “And we shall ask the doctor to call on him tonight—and settle the bill on our account.”

“Actually,” Branwell slurred, “I’m not altogether certain I can stand up. I was in the Bull with the search parties when this fight began, consoling myself over my sisters’ treachery. For now I will put aside our differences and endeavour to stand.”

“How noble of you,” Charlotte said, “and you had better stand, or you will find yourself sleeping in the gutter tonight.”

“Would not be the first time,” Branwell said, easing himself up and collapsing into Eamon, who was equally unsteady on his feet. Nevertheless together they seemed to keep each other upright.

“I could see nothing, but I heard it all, and you really were magnificent, Emily,” Charlotte said as she took Emily’s hand and guided her past a rather dejected-looking Mr. Nicholls, who had Papa by the arm. “Terribly coarse but magnificent nevertheless.”

“Yes,” Anne agreed, taking Emily’s other arm. “You were as courageous as the knights of Gondal.”

“Well, you know me, sisters dear,” said Emily, lifting her chin, “no coward soul is mine.”

44

Anne

“Though I am a man of peace, I was indeed ready to fight on your behalf,” Mr. Nicholls said as he helped Papa navigate the steps into the parsonage. “I was prepared to take them all on in your defence, sir.”

“It was just that you were prepared at the back of the crowd, out of harm’s way,” Emily said mischievously, as she grabbed Keeper’s collar and dragged him to the kitchen, where, by the sounds of Tabby’s cries, she stole something not intended for dogs with which to treat him.

Anne went into the dining room, where an agitated Flossy leapt onto her lap, and waited for her siblings to return, the door open just a crack. She could hear Charlotte pacing the hall.

“Are you coming in, Charlotte?” she called. “Time is short.”